A round-up of recent happenings in the world of PR, marketing, and other things I find interesting.
We Are... The Penn State scandal is yet another reminder that behavior and decision-making trumps all. Want me to tell how to improve your image and get good PR? Do the right thing.
Groupon Grows Up: Groupon is trying to distinguish itself from its myriad competitors. One idea I like: Groupon Rewards, which would help counter the problem I identified in this post about the challenge for Groupon in distinguishing itself from its rivals.
Anatomy of a PR Disaster: CNet takes an in-depth look at the Netflix price hike/Qwikster debacle, another one of my favorite punching bags.
Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts
Monday, July 16, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
Silence is golden. Just ask Netflix
Dave Copeland explores Faceboo's less-is-more PR strategy, which seems to be shared by a lot of other tech companies who find that playing hard to get with the media yields dividends -- or at least, does no harm, which is often just as good. My gripe, as always, is that a lot of people seem to conflate public relations and media relations -- the latter is a tool of the former; they are not interchangable. The fact that you spurn traditional news media coverage is not evidence that you don't do public relations. My first boss always said one of the tough parts about being in public relations is that often your greatest achievements are the stories that don't run.
Besides, with almost 1 billion users and growing, how much has Facebook really needed the traditional media, which has been bleeding readers, viewers, and listeners for decades? The real question is whether Mr. Zuckerberg can continue to dodge the fourth estate now that he has taken his company public and tripped over a hurdle or two along the way. Dave's article notes the coy strategy employed by Apple's Steve Jobs, who could speak directly to Apple's cultish fans even before social media and other forms of audience-centric communications were so dominant. Can Facebook, which has engendered far less affection than Apple, pull this off?
For his sake, let's hope Zuckerberg has learned the lesson of Reed Hastings, and follows the advice of Bart Simpson: If you don't know what to say, keep your fool mouth shut, and at least you won't make things worse.
Besides, with almost 1 billion users and growing, how much has Facebook really needed the traditional media, which has been bleeding readers, viewers, and listeners for decades? The real question is whether Mr. Zuckerberg can continue to dodge the fourth estate now that he has taken his company public and tripped over a hurdle or two along the way. Dave's article notes the coy strategy employed by Apple's Steve Jobs, who could speak directly to Apple's cultish fans even before social media and other forms of audience-centric communications were so dominant. Can Facebook, which has engendered far less affection than Apple, pull this off?
For his sake, let's hope Zuckerberg has learned the lesson of Reed Hastings, and follows the advice of Bart Simpson: If you don't know what to say, keep your fool mouth shut, and at least you won't make things worse.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
The Spin Cycle
A round-up of recent happenings in the world of PR, marketing, and other things I find interesting.
Penn State hires big-name PR firms: In the wake of the Sandusky scandal, Penn State writes a few big checks to fulfill its pledge to be more transparent. Penn State needs to change its culture. Will these firms help with that?
Netflix Stock Takes a Dive: A few weeks ago, after I heralded Netflix's recovery, a Facebook friend noted that its stock was still in the tank. So sue me. Bottom line, though, is that the lessons learned from the whole episode are still relevant.
The Disney Institute: Disney is building up quite a little side business helping companies become, well, become more like Disney. The New York Times, in reporting on The Disney Institute's growth, seems almost apologetic:
Disney, which employs 64,000 people in Orlando alone, has its own employee difficulties, of course. Union spats arise, and some cast members — Disney-speak for employees — chafe at the company’s strict rules, although it recently lifted a facial-hair ban and now allows women to forgo pantyhose. Disney’s sugary customer service can also startle visitors who aren’t used to such uniform cheerfulness.
But vast numbers of consumers love it, and the company is routinely showcased in business books, like “The Disney Way: Harnessing the Management Secrets of Disney in Your Company,” for its hospitality and efficiency. For instance, the company has spent so much time studying its park customers — more than 120 million of them globally last year — that it places trash cans every 27 paces, the average distance a visitor carries a candy wrapper before discarding it.
New York City journalists, perhaps you'd like to visit America sometime. It's a lovely place.
Penn State hires big-name PR firms: In the wake of the Sandusky scandal, Penn State writes a few big checks to fulfill its pledge to be more transparent. Penn State needs to change its culture. Will these firms help with that?
Netflix Stock Takes a Dive: A few weeks ago, after I heralded Netflix's recovery, a Facebook friend noted that its stock was still in the tank. So sue me. Bottom line, though, is that the lessons learned from the whole episode are still relevant.
The Disney Institute: Disney is building up quite a little side business helping companies become, well, become more like Disney. The New York Times, in reporting on The Disney Institute's growth, seems almost apologetic:
Disney, which employs 64,000 people in Orlando alone, has its own employee difficulties, of course. Union spats arise, and some cast members — Disney-speak for employees — chafe at the company’s strict rules, although it recently lifted a facial-hair ban and now allows women to forgo pantyhose. Disney’s sugary customer service can also startle visitors who aren’t used to such uniform cheerfulness.
But vast numbers of consumers love it, and the company is routinely showcased in business books, like “The Disney Way: Harnessing the Management Secrets of Disney in Your Company,” for its hospitality and efficiency. For instance, the company has spent so much time studying its park customers — more than 120 million of them globally last year — that it places trash cans every 27 paces, the average distance a visitor carries a candy wrapper before discarding it.
New York City journalists, perhaps you'd like to visit America sometime. It's a lovely place.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
What a cannibalistic serial killer can teach us about branding
In the film Silence of the Lambs, FBI agent Clarice Starling picks the psychotic brain of imprisoned murderer Hannibal Lecter to help find another serial killer still on the loose:
"Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, his man you seek?," Lecter says.
"He kills women."
"No. That is incidental."
I thought of this exchange, oddly enough, when I read this post over at Spin Sucks about personal branding, and how people and organizations can stay relevant in a world of rapid change. The writer, Steve Kaplan, points to the example of Blockbuster, struggling to regain its market position after having its business model vaporized by Netflix:
Blockbuster lost sight of what the marketplace was doing, partially because they were tied up in real estate with their stores and couldn’t fathom people not showing up at their doors. By the time they embraced the online purchasing frenzy, Netflix was annihilating them, with others soon to follow.
The Blockbuster brand image was that of an old brand behind the times, tarnished almost beyond repair. While they have somewhat clawed back, it came at a heavy price, and in no way are they back to where they were before the switch to online rentals. Perhaps if they would have made staying relevant a priority, they might have seen things coming a little sooner and been able to salvage more of their brand image.
The problem with Blockbuster, however, was not that it clung too long to an outdated business model; that, as Dr. Lecter would say, is incidental. The problem was that Blockbuster didn't understand exactly what its business was in the first place. Remember what we've said here about newspapers? Like the railroad companies that thought they were in the railroad business, but were really in the transportation business, newspapers believed they were in the newspaper business but are really in the business of journalism. The delivery method should be -- you guessed it-- incidental.
Blockbuster is an entertainment company. They may not produce it, but they deliver it, and their mistake was getting too invested in one particular method of delivery. Walt Disney understood that his company was an entertainment business, not a movie studio, which was why he so easily transitioned to television when his competitors were crusading against it.
Netflix, for all its well-documented troubles, seems to understand that it isn't a business that sends DVDs through the mail, or streams them online, but that delivers entertainment in whatever format its customers demand at that particular moment in time. The lesson for all our organizations is to understand our nature, what it is we really do -- and not that which is merely incidental.
"Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, his man you seek?," Lecter says.
"He kills women."
"No. That is incidental."
I thought of this exchange, oddly enough, when I read this post over at Spin Sucks about personal branding, and how people and organizations can stay relevant in a world of rapid change. The writer, Steve Kaplan, points to the example of Blockbuster, struggling to regain its market position after having its business model vaporized by Netflix:
Blockbuster lost sight of what the marketplace was doing, partially because they were tied up in real estate with their stores and couldn’t fathom people not showing up at their doors. By the time they embraced the online purchasing frenzy, Netflix was annihilating them, with others soon to follow.
The Blockbuster brand image was that of an old brand behind the times, tarnished almost beyond repair. While they have somewhat clawed back, it came at a heavy price, and in no way are they back to where they were before the switch to online rentals. Perhaps if they would have made staying relevant a priority, they might have seen things coming a little sooner and been able to salvage more of their brand image.
The problem with Blockbuster, however, was not that it clung too long to an outdated business model; that, as Dr. Lecter would say, is incidental. The problem was that Blockbuster didn't understand exactly what its business was in the first place. Remember what we've said here about newspapers? Like the railroad companies that thought they were in the railroad business, but were really in the transportation business, newspapers believed they were in the newspaper business but are really in the business of journalism. The delivery method should be -- you guessed it-- incidental.
Blockbuster is an entertainment company. They may not produce it, but they deliver it, and their mistake was getting too invested in one particular method of delivery. Walt Disney understood that his company was an entertainment business, not a movie studio, which was why he so easily transitioned to television when his competitors were crusading against it.
Netflix, for all its well-documented troubles, seems to understand that it isn't a business that sends DVDs through the mail, or streams them online, but that delivers entertainment in whatever format its customers demand at that particular moment in time. The lesson for all our organizations is to understand our nature, what it is we really do -- and not that which is merely incidental.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Out of the rubble
Netflix appears to have bounced back from last year's blunders, with membership and stock value rising again. You'll recall that Netflix's problems constituted what I regard as a true PR crisis, in which an organization response to a problem -- particularly its communications strategy -- makes things worse.
What conclusions can we draw from Netflix's bumbling and its subsequent revival? I think there are three important lessons:
1. When dealing with a crisis or unpopular decisions, communication is important -- but only honest, open, and transparent communication is effective. This is the lesson that people and organizations must learn and re-learn again and again. Netflix didn't dump chemicals into the ocean, or poison someone's drinking water, or give children cancer. It raised prices and separated its streaming and DVD-by-mail services. It angered customers, but few businesses can survive for long without making an unpopular decision, whether it is raising prices, cutting service, or even eliminating jobs. When an organization takes these kinds of steps, it is the duty of leadership to explain its actions as candidly as possible, without spin, which is where Netflix went wrong.
2. Understand your brand and what people expect of it. Netflix made a bad situation worse when it went on to announce it was rebranding its DVD service "Qwikster" and requiring people to subscribe to both services separately. Netflix built its brand on convenience. It spared people the hassle of having to drive to their local video store, hope it had the movie they wanted, and then wait in line to be served by some grumpy high school kid. Netflix didn't develop a cool new technology -- its service relied on the U.S. mail, for Pete's sake. So the worst thing it could have done was to make its new service as inconvenient as possible, which is what it did.
3. The quality of your product and service trumps everything -- most of the time. Netflix has quietly recovered no doubt people still want what the company sells: a decent selection of movies and TV shows that can be viewed whenever you want, virtually anywhere you want. As long as Netflix can provide that, and do it well, it should be fine, so long as its CEO keeps his big mouth shut.
You'll notice that this lesson carries a qualifier. Companies that have earned their customers trust can survive a crisis, but it's not guaranteed. Remember lesson number 1. How you respond to that crisis is important, and it gets more important the more severe the crisis turns out to be. Remember Chi-Chi's? The restuarant chain was already struggling when one of its Pittsburgh-area locations was hit by a hepatitis A outbreak, but the restuarant's poor response to the crisis was the nail in the coffin. Other restaurants and stores -- Jack in the Box, Sheetz -- survived similar crises, and even prospered in their wake, because they followed lesson number 1.
This being a blog about PR, by a PR guy, you won't be surprised to find that I think that's probably the most important lesson of all.
What conclusions can we draw from Netflix's bumbling and its subsequent revival? I think there are three important lessons:
1. When dealing with a crisis or unpopular decisions, communication is important -- but only honest, open, and transparent communication is effective. This is the lesson that people and organizations must learn and re-learn again and again. Netflix didn't dump chemicals into the ocean, or poison someone's drinking water, or give children cancer. It raised prices and separated its streaming and DVD-by-mail services. It angered customers, but few businesses can survive for long without making an unpopular decision, whether it is raising prices, cutting service, or even eliminating jobs. When an organization takes these kinds of steps, it is the duty of leadership to explain its actions as candidly as possible, without spin, which is where Netflix went wrong.
2. Understand your brand and what people expect of it. Netflix made a bad situation worse when it went on to announce it was rebranding its DVD service "Qwikster" and requiring people to subscribe to both services separately. Netflix built its brand on convenience. It spared people the hassle of having to drive to their local video store, hope it had the movie they wanted, and then wait in line to be served by some grumpy high school kid. Netflix didn't develop a cool new technology -- its service relied on the U.S. mail, for Pete's sake. So the worst thing it could have done was to make its new service as inconvenient as possible, which is what it did.
3. The quality of your product and service trumps everything -- most of the time. Netflix has quietly recovered no doubt people still want what the company sells: a decent selection of movies and TV shows that can be viewed whenever you want, virtually anywhere you want. As long as Netflix can provide that, and do it well, it should be fine, so long as its CEO keeps his big mouth shut.
You'll notice that this lesson carries a qualifier. Companies that have earned their customers trust can survive a crisis, but it's not guaranteed. Remember lesson number 1. How you respond to that crisis is important, and it gets more important the more severe the crisis turns out to be. Remember Chi-Chi's? The restuarant chain was already struggling when one of its Pittsburgh-area locations was hit by a hepatitis A outbreak, but the restuarant's poor response to the crisis was the nail in the coffin. Other restaurants and stores -- Jack in the Box, Sheetz -- survived similar crises, and even prospered in their wake, because they followed lesson number 1.
This being a blog about PR, by a PR guy, you won't be surprised to find that I think that's probably the most important lesson of all.
Friday, March 2, 2012
There are disasters, and then there are disasters
Here is a list of the top 7 "PR disasters of 2011." Regular readers know I have some issues with the term "PR disaster" as I noted here and here and here, the latter being in reference to the Netflix fiasco, which made the top 7 list.
Certainly, each of the examples listed created negative publicity for the organizations and people involved, though publicity and public relations are not one in the same. But to label them PR disasters in some ways trivializes the poor decisions and improper actions of these organizations and their leaders.
To me, a public relations crisis is when your response to a problem, and in particular your communications strategy, makes the situation worse. Netflix is an example of a company with a PR crisis and a genuine crisis -- which I define as the failure of an organization to carry out its basic mission or fulfill its responsibilities to its stakeholders.
Technically, Penn State's response to the allegations of child sex abuse against Jerry Sandusky, and the alleged cover-up by other university officials, was a PR crisis under my definition, because the university's response made things worse. Yet the worst of what the university and its leaders did was not harming the institution's image -- a byproduct of their actions -- but failing to intervene to keep more children from being victimized.
Remember, public relations is not merely about boosting the image of your organization. It is about counseling leadership to make decisions that are in the best interest of both the organization and the public, and figuring out how to reconcile these interests when they are in conflict. We all remember the foot-in-mouth disease suffered by BP CEO Tony Hayward during the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. His insensitive comments made a bad situation worse. But the real problem was the millions of gallons of oil floating in the ocean, and all the kind words in the world weren't going to make that go away.
Certainly, each of the examples listed created negative publicity for the organizations and people involved, though publicity and public relations are not one in the same. But to label them PR disasters in some ways trivializes the poor decisions and improper actions of these organizations and their leaders.
To me, a public relations crisis is when your response to a problem, and in particular your communications strategy, makes the situation worse. Netflix is an example of a company with a PR crisis and a genuine crisis -- which I define as the failure of an organization to carry out its basic mission or fulfill its responsibilities to its stakeholders.
Technically, Penn State's response to the allegations of child sex abuse against Jerry Sandusky, and the alleged cover-up by other university officials, was a PR crisis under my definition, because the university's response made things worse. Yet the worst of what the university and its leaders did was not harming the institution's image -- a byproduct of their actions -- but failing to intervene to keep more children from being victimized.
Remember, public relations is not merely about boosting the image of your organization. It is about counseling leadership to make decisions that are in the best interest of both the organization and the public, and figuring out how to reconcile these interests when they are in conflict. We all remember the foot-in-mouth disease suffered by BP CEO Tony Hayward during the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. His insensitive comments made a bad situation worse. But the real problem was the millions of gallons of oil floating in the ocean, and all the kind words in the world weren't going to make that go away.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
It's a clip show
I'm using an influx of new followers to my Twitter feed, which includes a link to this blog, as an excuse to do a recap of the most-read posts from Spin This in 2011, with a little added commentary to make it all worth your while. Here goes:
1. Matt Lauer, meanie
This was not only the most popular post of 2011, but has gotten the most hits since I started this blog in July 2010. I'll admit to walking back a bit the argument I made in this post that my fellow PR practitioners spend too much time worrying about the perception of the public relations industry. It sparked a healthy conversation with Frank Strong, PR in Pink, and Gini Dietrich about the consequences of negative stereotypes of our field, and how we should go about combating them. My prescription -- that we should simply let our good work speak for itself -- was a bit naive; if that was all that was required to maintain a good reputation for a person, organization, industry, etc., than no one would have any need for our expertise in the first place. The bottom line is that our clients and employers do need us, not just as communicators but as strategic advisors, to help them make sound decisions, and they won't trust us to do so if they see us as nothing but spin artists.
2. Brand Journalism 101
In this post, I talked about the opportunities that digital communications tools provide those of us in marketing and PR to tell our stories directly to our target audiences, bypassing the news media and other traditional filters. It's about giving your audience value: information that is useful to them but that also advances your organization's strategic goals. Some people call it content curation. Whatever you call it, it's the reason why there's never been a better time to be in public relations.
3. Stop this man before he speaks again
Just when it appeared that Netflix CEO Reed Hastings couldn't do any more damage to this once vaunted brand, he gave an interview in October to the New York Times Magazine in which he seemed to blame his company's customers for the debacle that was Qwikster. Previously I had discussed the difference between a genuine crisis and a PR crisis, and noted that Netflix had both on its hands, thanks to its CEO's verbal diarrhea.
4. Print is still fit for news
We're not dead yet, says the traditional news media, given a media use survey that found affluent audiences -- the ones that are often most coveted by marketeers -- still get most of their news from TV and print, and prefer to read magazines in print rather than online. The bottom line for professional communicators: Know your audience, know their preferences, and don't forget the old tricks even as you master new ones.
5. It's the message, stupid
This post was of particular to interest to my Pittsburgh readers, but is of relevance to everyone. I dissected the public relations battle between hospital giant UPMC and insurance giant Highmark. I concluded that despite a preponderance of negative publicity, UPMC was coming out ahead because it was consistent in its message that it had a plan that would allow Highmark subscribers to continue to have access to UPMC physicians. The lesson here is that the messages conveyed by media coverage may be more important than the tone of that coverage.
Well, that's likely it for 2011. Have a Happy New Year, and thanks for all your support. Let's do it again next year.
1. Matt Lauer, meanie
This was not only the most popular post of 2011, but has gotten the most hits since I started this blog in July 2010. I'll admit to walking back a bit the argument I made in this post that my fellow PR practitioners spend too much time worrying about the perception of the public relations industry. It sparked a healthy conversation with Frank Strong, PR in Pink, and Gini Dietrich about the consequences of negative stereotypes of our field, and how we should go about combating them. My prescription -- that we should simply let our good work speak for itself -- was a bit naive; if that was all that was required to maintain a good reputation for a person, organization, industry, etc., than no one would have any need for our expertise in the first place. The bottom line is that our clients and employers do need us, not just as communicators but as strategic advisors, to help them make sound decisions, and they won't trust us to do so if they see us as nothing but spin artists.
2. Brand Journalism 101
In this post, I talked about the opportunities that digital communications tools provide those of us in marketing and PR to tell our stories directly to our target audiences, bypassing the news media and other traditional filters. It's about giving your audience value: information that is useful to them but that also advances your organization's strategic goals. Some people call it content curation. Whatever you call it, it's the reason why there's never been a better time to be in public relations.
3. Stop this man before he speaks again
Just when it appeared that Netflix CEO Reed Hastings couldn't do any more damage to this once vaunted brand, he gave an interview in October to the New York Times Magazine in which he seemed to blame his company's customers for the debacle that was Qwikster. Previously I had discussed the difference between a genuine crisis and a PR crisis, and noted that Netflix had both on its hands, thanks to its CEO's verbal diarrhea.
4. Print is still fit for news
We're not dead yet, says the traditional news media, given a media use survey that found affluent audiences -- the ones that are often most coveted by marketeers -- still get most of their news from TV and print, and prefer to read magazines in print rather than online. The bottom line for professional communicators: Know your audience, know their preferences, and don't forget the old tricks even as you master new ones.
5. It's the message, stupid
This post was of particular to interest to my Pittsburgh readers, but is of relevance to everyone. I dissected the public relations battle between hospital giant UPMC and insurance giant Highmark. I concluded that despite a preponderance of negative publicity, UPMC was coming out ahead because it was consistent in its message that it had a plan that would allow Highmark subscribers to continue to have access to UPMC physicians. The lesson here is that the messages conveyed by media coverage may be more important than the tone of that coverage.
Well, that's likely it for 2011. Have a Happy New Year, and thanks for all your support. Let's do it again next year.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Stop this man before he speaks again
Recently I discussed how most of the time when people refer to a "PR crisis" they simply are referring to an actual crisis, in which an organization has failed in its basic mission and no amount of spin will save the day.
Then there's Netflix. If a genuine PR crisis is one in which an organization's response to its problems actually make the problems worse, than congratulations, Netflix, you have a real PR crisis on your hands. Case in point, your CEO just won't shut up:
Last month, when announcing Qwikster, you apologized for the way Netflix handled its price hikes, writing, “In hindsight I slid into arrogance based upon past success.” But wasn’t introducing Qwikster the way you did the most arrogant move of all?
No, I think it was just a mistake in underestimating the depth of emotional attachment to Netflix. (link)
Really? People were angry and turned your company into a laughingstock because they were too emotionally invested in it? Please. They were angry because a company built on convenience was now going to require them to maintain two separate accounts, with two separate billings, in order to pay more money to get, at best, the exact same level of service. And to boot, you picked a name that screamed "Failed Internet Start-up, Circa 1999."
If Netflix CEO Reed Hastings really believes the problem was his customers "emotional attachment to Netflix," then it could be a long time before this company -- and its plummeting stock -- hit rock bottom.
Then there's Netflix. If a genuine PR crisis is one in which an organization's response to its problems actually make the problems worse, than congratulations, Netflix, you have a real PR crisis on your hands. Case in point, your CEO just won't shut up:
Last month, when announcing Qwikster, you apologized for the way Netflix handled its price hikes, writing, “In hindsight I slid into arrogance based upon past success.” But wasn’t introducing Qwikster the way you did the most arrogant move of all?
No, I think it was just a mistake in underestimating the depth of emotional attachment to Netflix. (link)
Really? People were angry and turned your company into a laughingstock because they were too emotionally invested in it? Please. They were angry because a company built on convenience was now going to require them to maintain two separate accounts, with two separate billings, in order to pay more money to get, at best, the exact same level of service. And to boot, you picked a name that screamed "Failed Internet Start-up, Circa 1999."
If Netflix CEO Reed Hastings really believes the problem was his customers "emotional attachment to Netflix," then it could be a long time before this company -- and its plummeting stock -- hit rock bottom.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Damnit Jim, I'm a PR guy, not a magician
This Financial Times blog post about Blackberry's service disruption leads me to create a definition for the term "public relations crisis": any screw-up that you can't talk your way out of. How many times have I said it? You can't communicate your way out of a situation you behaved your way into. (Actually, my boss said it, and she tells me she's quoting Pat Jackson.) In my own words, the best public relations is a well-run organization, which means that even the most skilled PR practicioner can't rescue an organization from its own bad decisions.
That's not to undervalue the role of crisis management and crisis communication. It certainly is possible to make a bad situation worse by communicating poorly. (I'm looking at you, Netflix.) No one would have cared that BP had an arrogant and condescending CEO if they hadn't dumped a ton of oil in the Gulf of Mexico. Which isn't to say that every crisis is an organization's fault -- take, for example, the famous case of the poisoning of Tylenol, considered a textbook example of effective crisis management. It's not what parent company Johnson & Johnson said that is remembered; it's what they did -- removing Tylenol from the shelves in the interest of public safety, regardless of the cause or scope of the problem.
This doesn't argue against giving public relations its coveted and elusive "seat at the table." In fact, it's evidence that an organization's senior leadership needs to include public relations staff, whose proper role is to reconcile the interests of the organization with the interests of its various publics. In short, to prod the organization to do right when its instincts tell it to do wrong.
That's not to undervalue the role of crisis management and crisis communication. It certainly is possible to make a bad situation worse by communicating poorly. (I'm looking at you, Netflix.) No one would have cared that BP had an arrogant and condescending CEO if they hadn't dumped a ton of oil in the Gulf of Mexico. Which isn't to say that every crisis is an organization's fault -- take, for example, the famous case of the poisoning of Tylenol, considered a textbook example of effective crisis management. It's not what parent company Johnson & Johnson said that is remembered; it's what they did -- removing Tylenol from the shelves in the interest of public safety, regardless of the cause or scope of the problem.
This doesn't argue against giving public relations its coveted and elusive "seat at the table." In fact, it's evidence that an organization's senior leadership needs to include public relations staff, whose proper role is to reconcile the interests of the organization with the interests of its various publics. In short, to prod the organization to do right when its instincts tell it to do wrong.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Our own worst enemy
A friend recently asked me if I was going to post something on my blog about Nextflix's woes. I'm not sure I have anything to add that hasn't already been said about one of the greatest marketing disasters since New Coke. Even if Nextflix can pull out of its tailspin, its recent management and PR blunders are going to be the stuff of business school textbooks for decades.
But can we at least talk for a moment about the ridiculous name of its direct-mail DVD service, Qwikster? I immediately thought of Napster and Friendster, ahead of their time like Netflix and now confined to the dustbin of Internet history. Who are the ad wizards who came up with this one?
As amusing and perplexing as Netflix's freefall has been, for those of us who work in PR and marketing, it's actually a rather scary proposition. If these guys can screw the pooch like this, then any of us can. Disaster always lurks right around the corner. Don't get me wrong -- we're all responsible for our own ideas, good and bad. But everyone crosses the street without looking both ways once in a while. Every so often we all drift into the next lane without checking our side-view mirror.
If we're lucky, we swerve back just in time to avoid being smashed by the oncoming SUV, blaring its horn at us. That's why we collaborate, that's why we brainstorm. There comes a time when each of us needs someone to save us from ourselves.
But can we at least talk for a moment about the ridiculous name of its direct-mail DVD service, Qwikster? I immediately thought of Napster and Friendster, ahead of their time like Netflix and now confined to the dustbin of Internet history. Who are the ad wizards who came up with this one?
As amusing and perplexing as Netflix's freefall has been, for those of us who work in PR and marketing, it's actually a rather scary proposition. If these guys can screw the pooch like this, then any of us can. Disaster always lurks right around the corner. Don't get me wrong -- we're all responsible for our own ideas, good and bad. But everyone crosses the street without looking both ways once in a while. Every so often we all drift into the next lane without checking our side-view mirror.
If we're lucky, we swerve back just in time to avoid being smashed by the oncoming SUV, blaring its horn at us. That's why we collaborate, that's why we brainstorm. There comes a time when each of us needs someone to save us from ourselves.
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